I pointed to the jeans with my chin. “I’m not even sure those fit since I haven’t tried them on in over eight years.”
“Oh,” was her response. What else could she say, except maybe ‘Cole, get a life.’
“I heard you and Lilah are redoing your trailer,” I said as we walked into the living room, barren except for a tattered futon. I sat on one end, Maggie sat on the other.
“It looks great already. Lilah’s beyond brilliant. They’re delivering the furniture tomorrow so we’re taking a break today.”
“How did you get furniture delivered so quickly?” It took four days to get my desk delivered.
“Booker, how else?” She sighed heavily.
“Let me guess. He’s trying to hurry it along, limiting your time around Lilah.” She nodded, her eyes tightened. “How does Seth feel about you working alongside her?”
“Let’s see. He’s hired someone to follow me around, and we’ve had heated discussions about it every night.” She threw her hands up. “I’ve talked to him about her until I’m blue in the face.”
“So you believe her story?” I leaned forward.
“Yes. I was a little leery at first, but not anymore. Too many things point to her telling the truth. Seth thinks I just want to trust her because we’ve developed a friendship, but that’s not true.” She looked at me in earnest with those big blue eyes of hers. “I know this isn’t scientific, and you’re a man of facts, but in my heart I feel she’s being honest. I’ve seen the pain on her face, too. She misses you, and she’s afraid the two of you are through.”
I got up and paced to the window. A grimy film covered them, testifying how seldom I came here. Until now. I needed the emptiness the space provided. I needed to think.
“I told her we weren’t through, I just needed some time. I still love her,” heaven help me, “but I’m tired, Mags. Tired of everyone taking advantage of me. Tired of being gullible ol’ Cole. No. Gullible ol’ Opie. She’s not the only one who’s taken advantage of my easygoing nature either. The other doctors dump their obnoxious patients and their rotten schedules on me in the ER. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had Christmas off?” I turned to face her. “Maggie, I’m tired of living like this. Tired of being everyone’s go-to guy. Mr. Reliable. The calm in the storm. I’m also tired of being taken advantage of . . . lied to . . . used.” I shook my head.
“She loves you, Cole. I agree that her motives weren’t exactly pure in the beginning—” she started.
“You think?” I said, the bitter edge of sarcasm tainting my voice.
“But why did she do it? Lilah hoped to break away from her dad. She didn’t want to live like him. Besides, he told her it was only about money. As soon as she found out he’d lied, she told you immediately.”
“Maggie, you’re preaching to the choir. I know she’s not like her father, but I’m angry. And hurt. I’m also disgusted in myself more than anything. I let statistics and common sense rule my life.” I stormed across the room. “I know that’s why I get these stupid little injuries all the time.” I pointed to the bandage on my arm from who knows what. I didn’t bother keeping track anymore. “I’m too busy living in my head, thinking about an interesting surgery I’ve seen, or reliving a challenging case from the ER.”
“You were raised with facts and numbers, Cole. It’s only natural you’d live by them. You’re a kind man, and sometimes others take advantage of that. I’ve seen them do it. Especially . . . what does Lilah call him? Dr. Lazy Butt, right?”
“Anderson. You’re right, he does.” I folded my arms across my chest. “Do you know why I’m an ER doctor?” She shook her head. “I love the rush. The excitement. I live for it. One of the things I enjoy most about Booker is his love for life. I could listen to him talk for hours about his job and the dangers he encounters, all safe and sound in my bland little world.”
“That’s probably one of the reason you’re attracted to Lilah. She gives you the same rush,” Maggie pointed out.
“Lilah’s fun, slightly crazy, and hard to control. She’s like a wild fire, you know.” I shoved my hands through my hair. “But I’m tired of living through others. I want to do fun things. I want to experience the excitement first hand.”
“Why don’t you?” she asked simply.
I studied her for a moment, internalizing what she said, until it soaked in. “You’re right. Why don’t I? Maybe if I live in the moment I wouldn’t be so klutzy,” I said, tripping over my clogs I’d left on the floor. “Or maybe not,” I grumbled, swiping them aside with my foot.
“I’m also sick of wearing clogs and scrubs all the time.” I turned to Maggie in my epiphany. “How would you like to help me buy some new clothes? I’d go by myself, but I don’t have a clue where to go except for Wal-Mart.”
Maggie laughed. “Sure. But not Wal-Mart. Nothing against them, but I think after not buying clothes since high school you deserve a trip to the mall,” she insisted.
“You’re not going to believe this, but I’ve never been inside the mall,” I confessed. Her mouth dropped open. “I buy what I need online mostly, except for groceries.”
“We’re definitely going there then.” She stood. “Speaking of crazy ideas, did you hear what Lilah did to Booker yesterday?”
I winced, wishing Lilah’d try not to press his buttons. “Do I want to know?”
“Booker gave her the impression that you didn’t want to see her again and she kind of flipped. She took off in her car and managed to lose the cop trailing her.”
“Not good.”
“She disappeared for over five hours. Booker was sure she’d left town.”
“That must have been why one of his men came by the hospital to check if I’d seen her.”
“Yup. She showed up around ten-thirty, Booker said. The only reason he didn’t drag her in for questioning was because of a phone call she got from her dad while she was MIA. Booker said the two had an argument over the phone and Lilah begged her father stop trying to get revenge. Book said she kept him on the phone just like she was told to do, but that her father had some kind of scrambler on the phone so they couldn’t track the call.”
“Maybe that will win her brownie points with Booker eventually,” I said.
“Maybe, but you know Booker. He can be quite stubborn.” She stood and looped her purse up onto her shoulder. “If you’re serious about shopping, we’d better get going.” Maggie headed for the door. “What time are you working today?”
“I’m not. Called in sick,” I said, following Mags to the door.
She stopped dead and I bumped into her. She turned, eyes wide, and without cracking a smile, said, “Who are you and what have you done with Cole?”
“Okay, Magpie. Very funny. Let’s go before I change my mind.”
We browsed several stores in the mall, each more trendy than the next. “I don’t know, Mags, maybe I’m being too hasty.” I held up a pair of beat-up jeans covered in holes. “Maybe I should stick to scrubs.”
“Relax. This is all new to you. You’re stepping out of your comfort zone,” she insisted, holding up a t-shirt with some crazy graphic across the front. I cringed.
“Okay, let’s go.” She grabbed my arm and led me to a store boasting the world’s largest collection of Levis.
“This is more like it.” I skimmed through a pile of good old Levis.
“What about these?” Maggie handed me a pair of dark skinny jeans.
“No.” I said flatly. Skinny jeans? Seriously. Does she have any idea what tight jeans do to a guy’s manhood? I wanted to quote her the statistics of the adverse effect tight pants can have on a man, but I bit my tongue. No more statistics. I took the jeans. She had it right. I needed to step out of my comfort zone. I grabbed two other pair of normal jeans and went into the dressing room.
Wedging myself into the skinny jeans was a joke. My voice practically jumped two octaves, they were so tight. I eyed myself in the mirror and cringed. I looked like a wannabe
rock star. I stepped out to show Maggie.
“They look good,” she said with a smile. I shook my head and tugged on the legs of the stupid things. I’d walked ten feet and they were already crawling up my butt.
“Cole, they’re not that tight. You’ll get used to them,” she insisted.
“Mags, I’ve worn baggie scrubs for eight years now. I can’t do skinny jeans.” She pushed me back toward the dressing room with instructions to not give up.
I went with the relaxed fit next. “Now this is what I’m talking about,” I mumbled to my reflection in the mirror, noting they were a little snug in the rear. I went out to show Maggie.
“Perfect.” She grabbed a short-sleeved Henley shirt from a nearby rack and held it up to me.
“I like the shirt, but I think it should be long sleeved.” I took and exchanged it for a green long sleeved one from the rack.
“Cole, it’s ninety-six degrees out there. You’ll die in long sleeves,” she said, lifting her brows.
“Maggie, we live in upstate New York. It’s cold nine months out of twelve. If I buy short sleeved shirts, I’ll get two or three months use at the most.”
She turned around and murmured one step at a time as she went through another rack of shirts.
“I think I’ll get the next size of jeans. These are a little snug.”
She twisted back to me. “Are you trying for the ‘my pants are hanging halfway down my butt’ look?” she asked.
“No.” The thought appalled me.
“Then don’t get the next size.” She handed me two long-sleeved shirts and I went back to try them on.
By the time we finished, I had seven new shirts and four pairs of jeans. I even got some new shoes, some brown leather slip-ons I couldn’t remember the name of. They too seemed a little tight, but Maggie assured me it was because I’d worn clogs for so long. Who knew an epiphany would be so uncomfortable?
“You did good, Cole. I’m impressed.” Mags helped me load my bag into the trunk of my nice, boring car.
“Thanks.” I smiled mischievously. “One more stop and we’re done.”
“One more stop where?”
“You’ll see,” I said with a broad smile. Boring old Cole was about to shed his dull image, big time.
Chapter 27
Lilah
Between the nightmares and lamenting over Cole, I hadn’t slept well. The upside: I’d finished four more drawings of my father for Booker. The downside: exhaustion.
Needing a diversion, I called Maggie and invited her to lunch. She agreed, suggesting we meet at the hospital. She had to bring a friend in for some tests and had an hour to kill. I jumped at the chance to meet her there, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cole. I’d not spoken to him in five days, and my hope was waning. I’d lost him.
“Lilah, over here.” Maggie signaled to me from among a group of six picnic tables next to the hospital’s main building as I crossed the parking lot. I jogged over to her.
“Nice weather today, don’t you think?” Maggie set two plastic food containers on the table. “I brought some of Seth’s chicken salad and some grapes.”
“This is great. I love being outdoors.” I set my contribution, some cut up carrots and celery sticks, along with a couple cans of Diet Pepsi, on the table before sitting on the bench. “How much time do you have?”
“Miss Ethel, who I dropped off, said half an hour to forty-five minutes, so I’m guessing an hour and a half,” she said dryly, glancing at my face. “You look tired. Are you feeling all right?”
“Not been sleeping well. Nightmares.” I scooped up some salad onto my plate and took a bite. It contained grapes, walnuts, and a spice I couldn’t place. “The salad is delicious. I’d like the recipe, that’s if Seth will allow me to have it.”
“I’m guessing you haven’t noticed.” Maggie smiled broadly. “I no longer have a bodyguard.”
I glanced around. Sure enough, no Jenny. “What changed his mind?”
“He’s been going over your file almost every night and he finally agreed that it supports everything you’ve said.” Maggie handed me the grapes.
“The fact that Booker’s having me watched doesn’t hurt either,” I added bitterly. “I have to hand it to Booker, his spy’s much better than Seth’s. I seldom see his.”
“That’s because Seth wanted you to know I was being watched so you wouldn’t try anything,” she frowned.
“And Booker’s hoping to nail me to the wall,” I pointed out, hoping my animosity didn’t show too much.
“Lilah, let’s not talk about the over-protective men in my life. It’s just you and me here, enjoying a yummy lunch on a nice summer’s day.” She handed me a cup with ice from a thermos.
“Deal.” At least that’s what I said. The internal torment continued to swirl strongly.
“I’m excited for the furniture to come this afternoon. I can’t wait to see how it will look. I already don’t recognize the place,” Maggie said, eagerly.
“Me, too. It’s amazing what a little paint and some new carpet can do to . . .”
The unmistakable rumbling of a Harley Davidson motorcycle drowned out my words. The rider pulled into a parking space near where we sat and revved the bike a couple times before killing the engine. He climbed off with his back to us and removed his helmet, running his hands through his helmet hair. He was blond, like Cole. Seeing it made my heart ache. It seemed like forever since I touched his hair.
As motorcycle dude turned, it took me a few seconds to register who stood before me. Cole. I didn’t know if it were the dark glasses or the jeans that threw me, or the fact that except for Maggie’s wedding I’d only seen him in scrubs, but whatever the reason, my mouth dropped open.
Cole strutted across the grass looking so incredibly sexy I had to sit on my hands to keep from reaching out to touch him as he came toward us. Under her breath, Maggie hummed the tune Bad to the Bone, handing me a napkin.
I glanced at her, bewildered. “You’re drooling.” She pointed to my chin.
“I am n—Oh my gosh. I am!” I wiped my lower lip as Cole approached the table.
“Hello, Lilah. Maggie.” He nodded to each of us. “Great day out, don’t you think?”
I grinned stupidly, mostly because I couldn’t speak. Maggie said, “Yes. Perfect.”
“I’ve some paperwork to attend to. I’d better get going.” He smiled, looking all that, turned, and headed across the lawn for the hospital.
I couldn’t help but watch him and his rockin’ hot bod as he entered the building, stumbling only once.
I spun around at Maggie’s laughter. “I should have recorded that. The look on your face is priceless,” she said, still chuckling.
“What happened?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“Cole had an epiphany, as he called it. He said he was tired of living his life through others.”
“So he bought himself a bike and new clothes?” I asked, eyeing the sleek black motorcycle. The image of him on that bike would forever be burned into my head.
“I helped. We had a hard time finding him jeans. He even tried on a pair of skinny jeans. I thought he’d pass out,” she said with a grin.
“Maybe they were too tight,” I suggested.
“No. They were more of a narrow legged jean, really. He looked good, too, but he flat-out refused to buy them. In fact, he tried to convince me that he needed a larger pair of Levis because those were too tight.”
“No way,” I shook my head. “Those fit perfectly, especially walking away,” I said, wagging my eyebrows.
She pointed to the motorcycle. “That surprised me. Seth met us at Kelly’s Harleys in town since I know nothing about motorcycles. I blamed it on my being a girl, but our salesperson was a woman named Cindy, and she was good. So good, it took me an hour to convince Seth we didn’t need a motorcycle, too.”
“I’m in shock, complete shock.” I leaned against the table, still in disbelief.
Maggie gathered up the food. “I h
ave to go. I got the text to come get Miss Ethel.”
“I’ll see you at the trailer around five, then. Oh, here are some drawings for Booker.” I removed four sheets of paper from my sketch pad to hand to her, but she was halfway to the building already.
“Cole’s having dinner with Booker tonight. Just run them in to him,” she called over her shoulder, sprinting to the hospital door. “See you later.”
“But . . .” I said to no one. With apprehension, I tucked the sketches back inside the pad, and with drooped shoulders, went inside. I worried about seeing Cole alone, yet the anticipation sent ripples of excitement through me. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I stepped into the elevator. I stood outside his office door for a few moments to muster my courage before knocking twice.
“Come in.” Cole’s voice sent a jolt to my heart. I shoved against the door a couple times. They still hadn’t fixed the dumb thing. Finally it flew open, with me right behind.
“Lilah.” Cole jumped to his feet as I sailed into the room.
“Hi. Ah . . . sorry to bother you . . .”
“You’re not bothering me.” He came around the desk looking so freakin’ hot, I dropped my gaze to the floor to keep from drooling again. “Maggie tells me you’re redoing her trailer.”
“We’re doing it together, actually,” I said.
“Yes.”
After several seconds of awkward silence I continued. “She has real talent. An eye for color and for décor.”
“Maggie’s told me that she’s enjoying it,” he said, stepping closer.
We both stood there looking everywhere but at each other. Once again an awkward silence choked the room.
“Anyway, Maggie asked me to give you these sketches I made for Booker. They’re more of Daddy’s disguises.” I dug out the drawings and handed them to him. Cole looked at me, his eyebrows pinched together in a look of confusion. “Maggie said you were having dinner with Booker,” I reminded him.
“Why didn’t she take them? She’ll see him long before I will.”
Unbelievable Page 22
